realised, and he pushed his way through the shields. Ignoring the scorching heat he ran forward as the elemental battered away the never-ending wall of spears. His eyes watering, his skin tightening, he could feel the Chalebrat like a brand pressed against his exposed lips and chin. Hain hacked upwards at its arm, and was rewarded by an impact. The contact drove him back a step, but he forced himself on, eyes half-closed and swinging blindly at the yellow glare.
The elemental screamed again and again, the light intensified and Hain felt a blow to his shoulder that knocked him over, but in the next moment the fires winked out.
Hain felt himself hit the ground and kept on rolling, abandoning his axe in a desperate attempt to put out any flames. When his mind registered cheers coming from all around him he stopped and blinked up. After the glare of the Chalebrat the smoke-tinted sky looked blessedly dark and cool. He fought his way to his feet and took a breath, gasping with pain as the skin on his lips split and blood spilled down his mouth.
‘Sir!’ he heard an urgent voice call as hands went under his armpits and helped him up. ‘Sir, you ’urt?’
Hain blinked again and at last the blurs resolved themselves into shapes. ‘Gods,’ he croaked, realising it was Deebek’s mangled features right in front of him, ‘can’t be in paradise yet.’
He heard the words slur and felt blood spill from his mouth, but the twisted grin on Deebek’s face told him the injury wasn’t as serious as the pain in his face suggested.
‘Don’t worry, sir, there’s a special’un fer the likes o’us.’
‘The ugly?’ Hain asked drunkenly, prompting a roar of laughter that showed him far more of Deebek’s remaining teeth than Hain needed.
‘Bloody heroes, sir!’
Hain looked around at the cheering soldiers, then down at the scorched earth underfoot. There was a shapeless, blackened patch at his feet about a yard across, but no other trace of the Chalebrat.
‘Bloody heroes,’ he repeated before half-spitting and half-dribbling more blood from his mouth. Someone pressed his axe into his hand and Hain held it up to roars of approval from the survivors.
‘Well, boys,’ he said as loud as he could, wincing at the effort of a smile to make the old sergeant proud, ‘you wanted a real war and an enemy worth fighting. Looks like we got one.’
CHAPTER 22
Witchfinder Shanatin sucked his teeth and thought, his round face screwed up with the effort. He was a large man, and his thinning hair and air of harmlessness led people into thinking him a fool. Shanatin had often wondered, in the quiet of night, why he’d ended up the butt of every joke in the Knights of the Temples, and the target for every bully. There must be something about his open, honest face that caught the eye and inspired malice, while a lack of coordination in his unwieldy frame meant he tended to come off worse every time he stood up for himself. The bruises on his face were now yellow and grey, still visible in what daylight crept through the shattered roof of the ruin they were standing in.
Luerce cocked his head and watched the man think. Significantly smaller than Shanatin and never much of a fighter, Luerce nevertheless found himself wondering what it would be like to punch the fool in his fat face. To see the dismay and fear blossom; to see blood smeared across his plump, greasy cheeks . . . he tried to clear the image from his head: today he was Shanatin’s friend.
‘Do you want me to explain it again?’
Shanatin shook his blotchy, melon-like head. ‘Just don’t get why.’
Luerce raised an eyebrow and the witchfinder raised his hands submissively, ever the coward.
‘’Course I’ll do it, no fear - but why not Garash? He’s the bastard giving orders to harass the preachers.’
‘High Priest Garash is a useful man; I wish him nothing but the finest of health.’
‘Eh? But — ’
Luerce sighed. You really are a fucking idiot, Shanatin. Lucky for you the master keeps his promises.
‘Garash is a fanatic; a sadistic and violent man. The more he abuses his position, and the soldiers of the Devoted, the faster he pushes them to the master’s service. Remember, small steps in the shadows will lead us to greatness. We leave the grand statements of power to others; far safer to prepare the path and allow others to bring about their own downfall.’ He smiled like a snake.